All I Want For Christmas Is You
by Aurora Borealia
Summary: At a Christmas party, Sherlock and John get goaded into dancing with each other to the song this fic shares its name with. Strange and wonderful things follow, as you can imagine. Light John/Sherlock slash, but nothing graphic. A fun one-shot for X-mas.


**_Hello all! Well, this is a Christmas fanfic and I was hoping to have posted it before Christmas, but I just couldn't get it done in time. So instead, I'm posting it a little bit late. Sorry if Sherlock and John seem a little OOC throughout. I'm honestly not really sure how either of them would react in this situation, but I'm hoping I did it well. So, as usual, reviews are love and I'd like to hear from you. Hope you all enjoy and I'm very sorry if it's awful! - AB_**

**_Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own the song "All I Want For Christmas Is You". It is sung by Mariah Carey and thus belongs to her and whomever helped her write it. I also do not own "Sherlock" (although I wish I did. Who wouldn't want to own these two wonderful men?) This story is purely for fun, not profit._**

"All I Want For Christmas Is You" - A song based Sherlock Fanfiction

Quarter after seven at night a few days before Christmas was no time to be on the road. Everyone was running hither and yon trying to buy their gifts and clogging up traffic like a nightmare. In fact, it was probably good the driver for the evening was a London cabbie. Had John been behind the wheel, his service weapon would have been used for more than belt decoration.

John and Sherlock were already fifteen minutes late when the small black cab pulled up in front of a pretty white house nestled in between two large hedges, the imitation pillars on the porch laced with garland. John thanked the cabbie and paid the fare. Sherlock, who had been silent the whole ride, barely looked at John as he began to get out.

"John." his voice finally broke the silence. He still didn't look up, firmly rooted to his seat, "I don't want to go."

John couldn't believe he was dealing with this right now. It was like dealing with a five year old. He sighed, but surprisingly wasn't annoyed.

"Why not? It's a Christmas party." John asked.

"I don't like parties. People either. And people tend to be at parties."

"It'll be fine. It's all people we know. Besides, my sister's hosting it and you haven't met Harry yet, despite knowing all the little idiosyncrasies in her life by looking at my phone. Come on."

John heard Sherlock huff at being forced out of the cab, but in the end he had no choice but to follow John up to the house. The cab pulled away with a hiss of the engine and suddenly Harry's street was quiet again. John rushed up to the porch, obviously excited to see his sister, and knocked quickly. He waited for the answer, rubbing his hands together in the cold as Sherlock plodded up to stand next to him.

"Do I have to do this?" Sherlock whisper in a whine.

"Yes!" John hissed back, "And goddamn it, smile!"

Sherlock gave a wobbly, sarcastic smile back in reply and turn back to the house as a young woman who could only be Harry Watson opened the door.

Sherlock wasn't really sure what he was expecting, but he hadn't expected the woman to look _that_ similar to John. Harry was a few inches taller than John, but had the same facial features down almost to a tee. She had the same nose, the same interestingly searching eyes, the same pleasant smile. She had blondish-brown hair that came well down past her shoulders and dusted across a deep burgundy sweater, similar in style to the grey ones John always wore, but, well…more fashionable. At the sight of her brother, Harry's eyes lit up and John smiled a wide smile.

"John!" Harry yelled, pitching herself into John's outstretched arms, "I'm so glad you're here! We were all worried you two may not make it."

"Harry, it's great to see you. I'm so sorry we got caught up, Christmas drivers and all. But we're here now."

At her brother's words, Harry's gaze swiveled to Sherlock.

"And you must be Sherlock Holmes." she said with a slight nod and a smile, "I'm Harriet Watson. I've heard so much about you."

Sherlock put on (or at least faked) a pleasant smile and took Harry's hand.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you also."

"Oh, I know." Harry said, exchanging a knowing look with John, "John's phone and all that. Please, come in. Everyone's inside."

John and Sherlock stepped inside the well-lit and festively decorated house and soon saw that "everyone" was composed of Lestrade, Donovan and Molly. They were all laughing and talking quietly, the stereo in the room's corner playing a calm rendition of "What Child Is This?". As John entered the room, he was met with a hearty, "Hey! Merry Christmas!" whereas Sherlock was met with a quieter greeting.

For a while, Sherlock milled around sulkily behind John's back as John received a half hug from Molly while she attempted to balance a pink martini. He watched John, suddenly the little social butterfly, and flopped down with a huff onto the sofa. His head jerked to the left in surprise at a sudden little whimper next to him. To his left, Harry sat watching her brother and stirring a cup of coffee sadly.

"Hi." Sherlock said awkwardly after a moments pause.

"Hm?" Harry suddenly was jolted out of her stupor, "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. It's just watching everyone with their drinks and everything…"

John had finally made his way over to the couch.

"Hey, this had better be coffee." he said instantly, picking up Harry's cup to inspect.

"It is, don't worry. As of March, I will have been sober for a year."

"That's fantastic! Harry, I'm glad to hear it."

"Thanks," she said and then turned to Sherlock, "So you and I have a bit of getting to know each other to do, don't we?"

"What, you two aren't going to seclude yourselves, are you?" John asked with a frown.

"Not for long, just enough time to get to know your 'colleague' here." Harry smiled mischievously.

"And you know parties aren't really my thing, John. Plus, you said it yourself. It would be nice if I got to know your sister."

The two decidedly anti-social recovering addicts made their way into the kitchen where they could have some quiet, leaving a stunned John blinking behind them.

The kitchen was much quieter than the semi-busy living area. Harry moved over to a table in the middle and hopped up on to it, handing Sherlock a cup.

"There's some punch on the counter if you want it," she suggested, "but be careful. I make my punch with vodka."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, a smile playing across Harry's face as she said the words. He helped himself cautiously and examined his cup at eye level.

"Want any?" he asked in rehearsed politeness.

"No, thanks. Didn't you hear me say I've been sober for almost a year? John would have my head if I fell off the wagon now and with you."

"Oh, he'll come off it." Sherlock said, sipping lightly. "Besides, I wouldn't tell him if you did."

"You're a slight bit evil, aren't you?" Harry asked, grinning,

Sherlock returned her smile.

"A little bit, yes."

Back out in the living room, John was still standing shocked several seconds after Sherlock and Harry had retreated to the kitchen. Molly came up to break his silence, handing him a fizzy yellow drink.

"Hey, something wrong?" she asked.

"No, I guess not…but that was so weird."

"What?"

"Sherlock and my sister seem to be hitting it off."

"That is weird. Sure you're not already drunk and imagining things?"

John laughed, sipping at the drink.

"No, but if Harry and Sherlock start hanging around I think I'll take up the habit."

Molly lead John back over to where Lestrade and Donovan were talking. They greeted John with a friendly hello.

"Hello, Sergeant Donovan. Where's Anderson?"

John asked out of politeness, for in fact he was glad the cheeky forensics officer was missing from the party. His treatment of Sherlock had made John develop a quick and easy disdain for Anderson.

"His wife's back home," Donovan said, her voice half rueful, half jubilant at not having their secret relationship picked apart.

Anderson's wife had come home recently from yet another business trip and John figured he must have chosen to stay home than risk being seen out with Donovan.

"And at the slightest mention of Sherlock being here he said, how'd he put it?" Donovan continued, "Ah yes. He'd rather, 'stick himself repeatedly in the face with a rather large sword.'"

"Ouch," John smiled, figuring Sherlock would be happy his presence raised that kind of reaction, "I'm sure the feeling is the same coming from Sherlock."

"Speaking of which, where is he?" Molly asked and then quickly turned red. "Not that I miss him or anything. I'm just curious."

"He and Harry are in the kitchen talking." John replied, stirring his drink with a straw. "Although Harry should be out here considering it's her party."

As if reacting to his words, Sherlock and Harry came from the kitchen, both smiling as though they had just exchanged an inside joke.

John excused himself from Molly, Lestrade and Donovan's company and walked across the room to stand in front of his sister and his flat mate.

"There you guys are. That was really quick. I expected you two would have been talking longer."

"Oh, that's okay." Harry said smiling up at the tall man next to her and then back to John, " I found out everything I needed to know."

She walked towards the center of the room, her mischievous smile making John a little nervous. He remembered that smile well from childhood. It was usually ones she gave before beating the piss out of him.

"All right everyone," she said, raising an arm, "If we could all come together for just a few moments, I would love to make a toast."

Everyone came over to where Sherlock and John were standing and began to seat themselves. Harry, Lestrade and Donovan crammed themselves onto the couch, Molly sitting on the arm, while John took a tiny chair nearby and Sherlock stood loitering in the kitchen's door frame.

"So, I want to thank you all for coming here tonight. None of you have known John for particularly long and have known me even less, but it means a lot that you took time to come celebrate with us."

Everyone nodded or smiled their approval and John beamed at his sister.

"Next, I want to wish everyone a merry Christmas and make a toast to my brother and this excellent team that helps solve all our crimes and keeps us safe."

There was a quite murmur of "cheers" and a lot of "merry Christmas"ing and glass clinking. When there was silence once more, Harry leaned back with her coffee cup and smiled.

"And now, I believe it would be the ultimate Christmas present to me -and to all of us, really- if I could have my brother and Sherlock do one little thing for me."

John knitted his brow cautiously.

"Depends on the thing…" he answered diplomatically, exchanging a glance with Sherlock.

That smile from childhood played across Harry's features again,

"I think it would be lovely if you two would just dance with each other."

As if they had rehearsed it long before the pair had arrived, Lestrade, Donovan and Molly began to smile and nod vigorously in agreement to Harry's proposition. The whole lot of them thrived on awkwardness.

"What?" John demanded, "Are you drunk, Harry?"

She shook her head, "Nope. Remember, a year in March. I just would really like to see the pair of you dance together."

"Oh, no. No, no. Not going to happen." John said, firmly, "I can't dance."

"I _don't _dance." added Sherlock

"It's not really the time or the place…"

"I know what you all are trying to do and it's not funny…"

"You'll only take the mick out of us."

At this point, Harry had risen into an almost childlike plea.

"Please, John. It'll be your Christmas gift to me. Please. I know everyone else would like to see it as well."

The rest of the guests nodded and continued to goad.

"But…but. My leg and everything." John attempted to use the old excuse.

"Oh, please. Don't try and use that excuse. You haven't limped at all since you got here and reliable sources say you got over that. You're damn fine. Try again."

John shot Sherlock a look and all Sherlock could do was look back apologetically for letting that bit of information slip.

"Please, just one little dance." Harry said, pouting slightly to her brother.

Sherlock crossed over to John and muttered,

"We may as well. They aren't going to stop begging unless we do it."

John paused for a moment in thought and looked back to the four people gathered in front of him.

"Oh fine!" he said, cursing under his breath as Harry pumped her fist. "But just _one_ dance to _one_ song!"

"Ah, thank you John!" Harry said, running up to kiss her brother on the cheek, "I knew you'd come through!"

"Mm-hm." John muttered skeptically, crossing to the center of the room with Sherlock.

Molly crossed over to the seat John had just vacated in order to get a better view and Harry went back to her seat on the couch. The whole group seemed quite content now, Lestrade and Donovan exchanging a "this ought to be good" type of smile while Harry leaned back to pick a CD.

She grabbed one John couldn't see from next to the stereo, popped it in and began to search ahead a few tracks before coming to the one she wanted. With a smile, Harry turned back to the two men.

"Are you two ready?" she asked grinning.

"Give us a second." John turned towards Sherlock, "I can't believe we're doing this."

"I can't believe we do half of the things we do." Sherlock concurred.

Deftly, he raised his hand and John took it after a moment's hesitation, their fingers intertwining. To his side, John could feel Harry's smile. As if he were a natural dancer, Sherlock drew himself up and stood with his legs together, firm as a toy solider. John tried to mimic his stance, but it was difficult considering the man who's hand he was grasping was so much taller than he was. He had finally adjusted himself to a position he was comfortable with after several awkward moments.

"Ready now?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah," John said, craning his neck over Sherlock's shoulder, "Give it a go."

Harry seemed delighted as she punched the play button and as the song started John's stomach gave a funny lurch.

"_I don't want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need."_

Lestrade and Donovan exchanged a look and beamed as hard as possible without there faces cracking. Molly buried her face in her hands as she laughed and Harry stretched back on the sofa, looking quite pleased with herself. Sherlock looked slightly confused and John rolled his eyes as he realized he had been totally shafted.

"Oh no," he groaned, "You've got to be joking. Not _this _song."

Harry sat up from her spot on the sofa, laughing.

"Oh, suck it up, John." she said grinning. "It could've been much, much worse."

John rolled his eyes and groaned again. He turned back to face Sherlock, his stomach still somersaulting.

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked, as casual as if they were getting into a cab.

"Do we really have much choice?" John replied.

Behind him, Harry shook her head no, still laughing.

As calmly as ever, Sherlock simply tightened his grip on John's hand and began leading him in a very cool and calculated waltz.

"_I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas…Is you."_

And then Sherlock did something John never would have expected Sherlock to be capable of doing. At the lines "is you", Sherlock suddenly began to dance John around so fast that John had to grab the other man's back to steady himself. John was in such disbelief that he could do nothing but hold on and follow as everyone else cheered at the unexpectedness of Sherlock's gesture.

"Sherlock, what in the bloody hell are you doing?" he finally had the breath to demand.

"Oh my God, John. You're dancing!" Harry cried, elated.

"I hate you, Harry. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." John repeated as Sherlock danced him in a circle and Harry continued to die of laughter.

"And why do you have to lead, may I ask?" John suddenly demanded at Sherlock, looking up.

"Because I can. Deal with it." Sherlock simply replied and continued to jerk John around into an almost tarantella-style waltz.

"This is better than alcohol!" Harry exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

John soon came to realize he hadn't let go of Sherlock's back through the whole dance and that his body was jammed right up against Sherlock's chest. A few times he tried to get his own footing, but was immediately swept up by Sherlock's leading again as Sherlock smiled from ear to ear.

One thing was for certain, John may not have been thrilled with the situation, but he had never seen Sherlock so happy or genuinely enjoying himself so much. And this was at a party Sherlock had not wanted to come to in the first place. It almost felt like a victory and John could help but feel that if it was making Sherlock so happy, he might as well try enjoying it, too.

"Oh, what the hell." John said after several moments and suddenly relaxed the tenseness in his legs, letting Sherlock lead.

Everyone exchanged a look and even Sherlock was surprised.

"Oh my God, John." he said, shocked, "You're waltzing with me."

"Everybody else seems to be having a proper bit of fun with this, why shouldn't I?" a grin played across his face and Sherlock too smiled.

The song continued on with it's next line:

"'_Cause I just want you here tonight holding on to me so tight. What more can I do? Baby, all I want for Christmas is you."_

For the first time in a while, the song's tempo mellowed out and Sherlock slowed his steps down to match the change in time. There was finally a little bit of time for John to take a breath and Sherlock led him now into a slower, more calculated waltz again. Part of John's mind was telling him that he could officially let go of Sherlock's back now, but something in his mind blocked that from happening and instead he adjusted his hand a little firmer.

At this lull in the music, John also became suddenly aware of Sherlock's eyes boring into him. He looked up into the other man's face and found his eyes searching John's face over and over again. The intense eyes made scarlet creep into John's creeks for more than a moment and he had to look down at the floor to calm his nerves. When he finally stole a glance upwards again, Sherlock bit at his lip for a brief moment and then went back to dancing as per normal. John couldn't help analyze the look. He wondered, had Sherlock been thinking the same thing John was at the song's lyrics? John couldn't help but think that the song strangely made him think of…them?

No. What a silly thought. It was absolutely not about them _at all_. To even think that was just strange. John cautiously threw a glance over at Harry, Molly, Donovan and Lestrade. If they noticed that brief awkwardness John and Sherlock had shared, they didn't show it outwardly. The men pushed the thoughts to the back of their minds and let the songs next line continue on.

"_And everyone is singing, I hear those sleigh bells ringing. Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need? Won't you please bring my baby to me?"_

At the last words, Sherlock took John's hand forcefully in his, grabbed John's back and surprised the living hell straight out of him by dipping him down to the ground. Harry had to punch the pause button on the stereo out of fear of missing the next line of the song over her laughter. John blinked for a moment or two, processing the fact that he now had an upside-down view of the couch and coffee table before he finally found his voice.

"Uh…Sherlock." John said calmly, still blinking as the laughter died down, "Put both of my feet back on the ground or I'm going to put you in an Afghani choke hold."

Everyone roared again and Sherlock obliged by tipping him back to solid terra firma.

"Continue." John demanded, pointing to the stereo.

If a point could have been authoritative, John's point would have been the most Harry had ever seen as she wiped the tears out of her eyes and punched the play button.

Now that the tempo sped up, the two men slightly increased their speed again. This time, John was matching Sherlock step for step, throwing a triumphant look to the taller man at being able to hold his own in the dance. Sherlock looked elated for him (genuine elation!) and gave him a tiny little spin around. John couldn't help but laugh at the craziness of the whole thing. It was fun, the type of fun he would have never, ever imagined having.

"_Oh I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know…"_

John came out of the spin unevenly, crashing into Sherlock's chest. It took him several seconds to realize he had his hands there in an attempt to steady himself. He went to remove them, blushing quite obviously this time, but Sherlock's own hands were soon around his wrists as if to tell him to stay. Once again, Sherlock met John with that deep, intense look and John couldn't help but return it this time. One of Sherlock's hands came to John's face to brush a piece of stray hair off his cheek. John's skin prickled pleasantly.

"_Make my wish come true. Baby, all I want for Christmas is…"_

As the song hit it's crescendo before the word "you", Sherlock did the most singularly unexpected and thus most wonderful thing. He cupped John's face in his hands and leaned in close, kissing him on his lips. Sherlock's lips were softer, warmer and more amazing than John would have been able to predict. To his side, John could vaguely hear the reactions.

Donovan and Lestrade audibly gasped with a mild, "Oh my God!" from the side of the couch Donovan occupied. Molly was still too stunned to say anything and the most vocal of all of them, Harry, of course, was clapping and repeatedly screaming, "I knew it! I knew it!"

John reached up and pulled Sherlock in closer, returning the kiss. When they broke off a few seconds later, Sherlock took John's face again and whispered in his ear,

"That's my Christmas gift to you. Hope you like it."

John smiled at the warm breath ghosting over his eardrums.

"Damn," he said, still smiling, "I got you the same thing."

Sherlock grinned widely, his eyes fluttering slightly as John kissed Sherlock's lips right back. The two men pulled together, John's head on Sherlock's shoulder as the song began to fade out.

"Harry," John demanded dimly, "Don't you dare turn this song off. Put it on repeat."

Harry smiled and saluted with a "Yes, sir."

She seemed happy to oblige as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson continued to do their slow little waltz in each other's arms.

_**Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas and have a happy and healthy New Year!**_

_**Also, P.S. to anyone who was reading my other story "Cripple". If I've got time, hopefully chapter 4 will be up within the week!**_


End file.
